Beneath the white haori, the bold character "四" marked the center of her back.
Her long black hair draped down her back, soft and flowing. Even with her back turned, Moyu could feel the quiet grace radiating from her presence.
"I've been waiting for you," she said softly.
"Mo. Yu."
Unohana Retsu pronounced his name slowly, deliberately. Each syllable carried a calm menace.
Moyu instantly sensed the cold bloodlust hanging in the air.
"You've come to accept your fate?"
Never in his wildest thoughts did he expect Unohana Retsu to be waiting inside his dorm room.
How much hate did she harbor? How much resentment?
"Captain Unohana," he said cautiously, trying to buy time.
She turned around and reached for her Zanpakutō.
But before she could draw it fully, Moyu interrupted, "There's something wrong with your swordsmanship."
Her hand paused mid-draw. Her eyes narrowed, confused.
"What?"
He exhaled slowly, grateful the blade had stopped—if only temporarily.
"I mean your understanding of the sword path has a flaw. Since I ruined your flower arrangement, consider this my apology."
He did feel some guilt about his earlier disrespect. And since kendo had become such a point of contention, he might as well prove himself with it.
Besides, Unohana's earlier explanation of swordsmanship wasn't without its faults. At his current level, he could see things even she hadn't noticed.
Moyu drew his Zanpakutō, his face becoming calm and focused.
"The sword isn't just for cutting."
"Captain Unohana, please restrain your Reiatsu. This is still the Spiritual Arts Academy."
"I'll show you what a sword truly is."
As his words dropped, his white student robes rustled slightly.
It was as though an invisible hand stirred the air around him.
Unohana's expression grew serious. Her white teeth parted as she murmured, "This is..."
"Wind?"
Surprise flickered across her usually composed features.
"There's no spirit particle fluctuation—how is this wind appearing?"
Even as a high-ranking captain, well-versed in countless techniques, she couldn't comprehend what she was witnessing.
Reiatsu was supposed to be the source of supernatural ability for any Shinigami.
Yet Moyu, without emitting even a trace of it, was conjuring wind from thin air.
The breeze gathered strength, swirling through the room.
Wind whistled in their ears, dancing wildly through the enclosed space.
Unohana stood silently, watching, but the shock in her eyes never faded.
In fact, it only deepened.
Moyu placed his right hand gently on his sword's hilt.
The wind froze in place.
"The sword moves with the wind. The heart moves with the sword."
His words split the silence.
In the next instant, the frozen wind exploded outward, bursting like a dam.
A deafening roar filled the room, drowning out all other sounds.
Unohana's eyes widened in disbelief.
From Moyu's sword, violent wind erupted. Invisible blades howled as they tore through the room like a hurricane unleashed.
Wind slashed past Unohana, shredding floorboards, rafters, and even ornamental walls.
When the storm finally settled, a single lock of hair drifted down beside her ear.
She caught it in her palm, her gaze distant.
"A new school of swordsmanship..."
"What is its name?"
Moyu paused for a moment, then replied, "The Way of the Wind Sword."
Unohana studied the black strand in her fingers.
"A fitting name."
"So my sword... was so narrow all this time?"
A flicker of disappointment softened her otherwise composed face.
As the First Kenpachi, the ideal she had pursued her entire life... had been limited.
The realization hit harder than any blade.
"Uh..." Moyu hesitated, unsure whether to console or remain silent.
"Thank you."
Her voice regained its composure. "You've shown me a new world within kendo."
"Our past conflict is resolved."
Moyu breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
Whatever she wanted to do was fine—so long as she wasn't planning to chase him down and cut him to pieces.
Being stalked by the First Kenpachi wasn't good for one's mental health.
"Mr. Moyu," she added, her tone lighter, "the Fourth Division welcomes you."
"We'll continue our discussion on the sword path there."
Her smile was serene, gentle like a mountain breeze.
For a brief moment, Moyu was stunned.
Then she turned and left, her heart filled with anticipation and longing for the next level of swordsmanship.
She looked forward to seeing Moyu again—within the Fourth Division—where kendo would once again evolve.
...
Moyu stood in the middle of the wreckage, rubbing his temples.
"What a mess..."
Just then, the system beep echoed in his mind.
Because your kendo is recognized by others, your mood has improved, confidence doubled, and training efficiency increased.